


it's the invisible things (that i love the most)

by 4419blues



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Bang Chan is Whipped, Canon Compliant, Character Study, First Kiss, Fluff and Crack, Kinda, Lee Minho | Lee Know is a Little Shit, M/M, One Shot, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Revelations, Sleepy Cuddles, Song Lyrics, based on chan's room ep 90 yes ikr, bros being bros, minchan, song prompt, wally witnessed everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:20:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29414766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4419blues/pseuds/4419blues
Summary: Where it took Chan a night away from the dorm to realize the invisible things he loves the most about a certain angel with devil-like tendencies
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 7
Kudos: 55
Collections: SKZ Jukebox Fest Round One





	it's the invisible things (that i love the most)

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is an entry for [SKZ Jukebox Fest](https://twitter.com/skzjukeboxfest) 🎵🕺
> 
> honestly, i forgot what i wanted to say here so please help me 💔
> 
> everything else aside, i hope i have given lauv's song justice !!
> 
> theme: invisible things - lauv

It all started with a highly anticipated Chan's Room episode.

Out of impulsivity, last week, Chan made a promise to make the 90th episode special. In all honesty, 90 isn't even a significant number for him (aside perhaps when he used to study trigonometry), yet a nagging voice in his head told him to ask suggestions on how he could make the upcoming episode extra enjoyable. 

Well, he should've seen the comments coming.

_"Chan guest Minho for ep 90"_

_"Minho in Chan's Room !!"_

_"Summoning MinChan for next week"_

Chan went pale after going for a quick scroll on Twitter. Of course, everyone would ask Minho to appear in his weekly sessions. They have been delaying this since forever (to the point that video call winners personally demanded).

It's not that Chan didn't want Minho to join him. In fact, he really loved the idea, almost equally as how in love he is with the latter's music taste. His worry had nothing to do with the occasional curse words on some of the songs in the dancer's playlist— he could always look for clean versions or just beg for Minho to choose some other ones. Instead, his worry had something to do with him having a hard time holding his emotions in once he sees the familiar sparkle in Minho's eyes when he listens to his favorite songs.

See, Minho's eyes are very expressive. When he's excited, the entirety of the universe cannot compete with their beauty. But when he's bottling his negative emotions up, the sparkle dies and is replaced by swirling black holes.

It's very easy for Chan to pretend, to act as if he's just "very amazed" with his song choices. It's very easy for him to break his stare if he puts his mind to it (and remembers that he's doing a livestream). It's very easy for him to laugh it off and release a bit of his inner frustrations by patting the younger's shoulder. What he cannot control, however, is the squeezing feeling in his chest, depriving him of enough air once he's overwhelmed by a certain _feeling_. Paired with the unstable ventilation in the studio, he thinks he might die of asphyxiation.

But as soon as he got home, the tides suddenly shifted. Upon seeing Minho listening to Park Hyo Shin on his portable speaker, looking peaceful yet perplexed, Chan went for it.

"So, what do you think about listening to Park Hyo Shin with me next week with STAYs?"

Minho turned his head towards the direction of the voice, a few strands of hair covering his field of vision. He opened his mouth a bit only to close it in a heartbeat. Chan began to regret ever breaking the question.

Relief washed over him when he saw the familiar reassuring smile. "Great, I’d love to overwhelm them with his voice.”

Chan felt the walls on the dorm close in.

\-----

Much to Chan's surprise, he managed his emotions well for a little over an hour.

_Almost._

In the first 45 minutes, Chan mentally applauded himself after realizing that him glancing at Minho longer than necessary was not _very_ frequent. There were times that he almost spaced out but he quickly snapped out of it (by reminding himself that he can freely do that behind the cameras). Came the next 30 minutes (or less since Chan lost track of time) and he started struggling.

It began when someone asked for _Invisible Things_ to be played when the two agreed to accept recommendations. Minho's smile quickly grew upon recognizing the song. "Wait, I have that in my playlist!" 

Chan nodded his head at the camera as he searched for the song on YouTube. He had never heard this song before but if that would put Minho (and the commenter) in a better mood, he'd be very much willing to play it. Besides, he could use a new song in his playlist.

The first few notes of the song played through the speakers, dressing the studio with a different vibe from before. Chan moved his head to the beat, enjoying how the song goes so far. That is, until Minho started singing the chorus softly.

_"It's the invisible things that– that I love the most._

_It's the way that I feel when I– when I hold you close."_

Chan stalled his movement, his ears tuning out everything but Minho's voice.

_"'Cause everything else, oh, it comes and goes._

_It's the invisible things that I– that I love the most._

_So let me hold you close."_

A lot of things about Minho's voice mesmerize Chan that it's impossible for him to enumerate everything in one sitting. The way Minho enunciates words regardless of the language, the icy yet warm feeling emanating from it (a perfect and alluring combination), the evident passion he has for music as he pours his heart out (subtly or not) on every word, the consoling and silvery tone that entices you to listen to it for hours on end— Chan could still go on.

But one thing is for sure— **_his velvety vocals is one of the invisible things he loves about Minho._**

After the live, the two decided to stay in the studio despite the fact that Chan had finished all the necessary touches for the upcoming mixtape project. He could've been resting already, but he asked Minho to bring any game from the dorms to the studio, the idea of resting the least of his priority.

The game was pretty simple— the players just have to avoid submerging the penguin into a pool of hexagonal blocks, representing the icebergs. However, there's this one unspoken rule: the players should focus on the game. 

And Chan must've forgotten about it.

"Hyung, it's your turn." Minho softly giggled while pointing at the remaining hexagons surrounding the penguin. After the live, as per Chan's request since "he has nothing to do", they decided to play _Save the Penguin_ — the toy Minho brought with him. "Stop spacing out somewhere behind me, weirdo." 

**_His giggles, the second invisible thing._** Chan physically shook his head to clear his thoughts before spinning the tiny roulette that decides their fate. _Green triangle_ — only white hexagons could be eliminated. A smirk made its why on Minho's face as he saw the position of the white hexagons— poking at least one of them, regardless in which area, will result to the penguin's demise. Chan had no choice.

Just as he had successfully dislodged a white hexagon, the makeshift icebergs crumbled, the penguin drowning in icy colors while lying on the floor of the studio. 

Also just as expected, Minho victoriously laughed at the sight, the corners of his eyes crinkling. At that moment, Chan couldn't decide whether he resonates with the hexagonal icebergs or the penguin. Was he the pieces that had crumbled and "melted" upon hearing those contagious laughter or the penguin lying on the ground, presumably deceased. What he knew though was that he didn't need to win the game to succeed— Minho's happiness was the only thing he wanted. 

Those laughs that started off loud, then quieted to a high-pitched "ha"? Those fast giggles that made him clutch his stomach? As disgustingly whipped as it sounds, those were his main prize.

"Hey, hyung! You spaced out again. Are you good?" Minho waved his hand in front of Chan, a questioning look on his face.

Chan faked a yawn. "Yeah, yeah. Just kinda sleepy." That was not a complete lie. He did feel like passing out due to exhaustion— prior to the live, they had to rehearse and finish tens of rounds of online fansigns. However, the reason why it cannot be a complete truth is that there's no way he could fall asleep when his mind is plagued with thoughts he wanted to push away.

Minho acknowledged his reply with a hum while gathering the hexagons and the penguin from where they originally were. He carefully stuffed them inside the box to ensure that nothing was missing.. "Shall we go home, then?"

A _yes_ was what Chan wanted to stay. He was beginning to think that these thoughts were provoked by the ventilation in the studio. Maybe once he's back in the dorms, they will all fade into oblivion.

A _no_ was what left his mouth instead.

Minho furrowed his eyebrows, obviously confused. "If you're tired, then why don't you sleep?"

_I want to stay with you here._

"I need to be back here before 5 am. I might just stay here or something. I'll go home quickly after that." This time, Chan told an absolute lie.

"Is that so?" Minho clarified, his eyes wandering around the four walls of the room in search for a specific item. "I see you have two? three? blankets here. I'll accompany you, then."

"Huh?" Chan's eyes went wide, not expecting this proposal at all. Why would Minho want to give up the comfort of his own bed for a… cramped space with only two single-seat couches and a gaming chair to possibly rest on?

"Why are you looking at me like that? It's quiet and comfy here. Plus, I'm too sleepy and lazy to walk back home. I can just go there in the morning like you.”

"And how exactly will you make yourself comfortable here, hm?" Chan pressed, partly hoping that Minho would change his mind (because he deserves a good rest), partly praying that he would stay.

Instead of a verbal answer, Minho only stood up from the floor and grabbed the folded blankets on the corner shelf on the other side of the room. He held them in front of him, expecting Chan to get the signal. It was unfortunate that he got a dumbfounded look.

That earned Chan an eye roll from the dancer who then walked towards the center of the room. He pushed the couches as far away from each other as possible before unfurling one of the blankets— the striped one. Only when he had finished tucking each end of the blanket on each side of the couches did Chan realize what Minho was trying to do. 

_“_ _Yeah, we built castles out of couches”_

Chan, for the umpteenth time, shook his head in an attempt to clear the memory of him hearing that specific line from Minho earlier, because it certainly wouldn’t help his case right now. Everything was just a mere coincidence.

"Of course, a fort." Chan sighed, endeared at the other's initiative. It's been a long time since they built forts in the dorm. When all of the members gather for a movie night (thanks to the projector installed in the living room), they make forts to complete the "Netflix and (literal) chill" experience. But since their schedules are too hectic to allow them to do it again, they’d have to wait for the holidays to come.

"And I'll it turn into a castle because I'm an architect." Minho smugly replied while looking for other materials needed to complete the castle. "Do you have pillows here?" Chan pointed at the lone throw pillow on the office chair, barely a ruler long. "Too bad, then. We'll settle with a fort."

"Whatever you say." Chan laughed as he stood from the ground and unfolded another blanket himself (clue: Changbin's). He spread it out on the floor, specifically in the space between the black cushions. 

**_The third invisible thing he loves about Minho is his spontaneity._** Chan had no doubt that Minho's mind works differently— he never seemed to run out of ideas and things to try. Yes, there are times when they may be bizarre in a sense (the perfect example for this is him jokingly asking Chan to pass ice cubes down the line using their mouths), but his imaginative and creative brain is especially helpful for his individual artistry, making choregraphies, and putting a smile on other people’s faces.

This leads to the fourth one— **_Minho's sense of humor._** From his "weird" habits and quick-witted and sarcastic comebacks to his wordplay and facial expressions, Minho knows a lot of ways to make people laugh. On some occasions, he makes himself the butt of his own jokes, all for good vibes. The most admirable thing about this is that he had never gone overboard with his jabs.

"Is this good enough?" Chan asked once he had smoothened out the blanket. Deep inside, he was grateful that he’s very particular with his ritual of sweeping the floor before going live.

"Yeah, I think that's fine already. You're tiny anyway."

"Excuse me?" Chan interjected, feigning an offended expression even if he was aware that there was no bite in the younger’s words. "Let me remind you that I am, in fact, just an inch or two shorter than you."

"Hm, sounds small to me." Minho squeezed himself into the “fort” with ease before patting the space beside him. "Now go to sleep so you can grow taller."

“That was such a very unnecessary comme– _ah!_ Lee Minho!" Said culprit pulled Chan into the fort before he could even finish his sentence, almost knocking the improvised roof in the process. He gave in into the younger’s antics and lied down. Unexpectedly, even if they had to make do with the only resources they have in the place, the fort was still decent and relaxing. If it was because he was just tired or Minho was a nice company, Chan couldn’t tell. “Never thought I’d try this thing here.” Chan commented, his eyes fixed on the patterned ceiling. 

Minho nodded his head in agreement even if Chan couldn’t see. “Have you never really thought of doing this with Jisung and Changbin or at least one of them?” 

Chan used his right forearm as a pillow. “Hm, I guess it’s because we’re not as "big-brained" as you.” Chan quipped, although there was some truth to it. The dancer is, in fact, a clever one. He didn’t hear a sarcastic remark from the other. Instead, he heard a sound of fabric making contact with another one.

“Hey, take this.” A cotton-like object was thrown haphazardly over Chan’s torso, the blow softened by his jetblack fleece jacket. He peeled his eyes away from the striped ceiling to examine the item on top of him— his throw pillow. Chan turned to his side to peer at Minho, only to see him with his eyes closed, his left arm acting as his pillow. The older couldn’t fight the enamored grin forming on his face.

How could he forget this invisible thing— **_Minho’s tsundere side._** Chan’s gaze subsequently fleeted from the rectangular fluffy object to the man beside him. Minho looked tranquil on his side of the blanket, the rise and fall of his chest stable. His permed dark brown hair slightly shielding him from the light above them that the blanket failed to filter. He had no idea why he chose to style his hair like that, but he would rather think that it’s for the fans for his own peace of mind. Nonetheless, he would do anything just to see it styled like that, especially with the comma hair.

“You know I’m still awake and I can feel you staring at me, right?” Minho mumbled before turning to his side, the one facing Chan, from his original lying position. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Chan visibly gulped, not knowing exactly how to answer the question. He did pray that Minho didn’t notice his tensed figure, though.

“I’ll beat you to it. I can hear you think right now.” Minho taunted Chan, one of his eyebrows raised at the latter. Chan rolled his eyes.

“If so, what am I thinking right now?”

“Simple,” Minho examined Chan’s face, looking for any sign of intimidation. “You feel so lucky for having me.”

“Ha! Wrong!” Chan exclaimed louder than needed. While he believes that he’s lucky to have him in his ~~life~~ team, he had another thing in mind.

“Then what? I don’t believe— ugh.” Minho was cut off mid-sentence by a pair of strong arms enveloping him in a hug. Minho pretended to protest by making seemingly indignant noises yet he made no effort to push the older away. 

“This…” Chan mumbled against Minho’s shoulder. “Channie was thinking of giving you a hug.”

“Please, for the love of God, don’t talk in third person right now.” Minho whined while weakly shrugging his way out Chan's grip. “I would leave you here.”

“No, please let Channie hug you for a little longer. You didn’t let me hug you earlie— _ouch, you brat!_ ” Chan hissed in pain after Minho had bitten his hand. “This is why I put a devil emoji beside the rabbit emoji in the VLive title.”

Minho giggled ( _goddamn it_ ), satisfied with the reaction he got. He flashed a faux innocent expression at Chan who still wasn’t deterred and, instead, tightened his embrace even more. This time, Minho let him be. 

And just like that, another reason was added to his growing list of things to adore about the younger. If he may alter Lauv’s lyrics so it could fit his situation, he’d say that **_it’s the way that Minho feels when he holds him close._** In general, they don’t particularly have a hugging schedule, because the tsundere in Minho makes the whole ordeal difficult (since it powers him to dodge away from Chan’s arms around half of the time the Aussie makes an attempt). But when they do call a truce, they can somehow be all over each other and it depends on the mood who the little and big spoon are. Chan (just like Felix, he told himself just to lessen the embarrassment burdening him) could distinguish the feeling of hugging each of the members. For instance, hugging Felix feels like home and nostalgia while doing the same thing to Changbin feels empowering and reinvigorating, especially after a heavy late night talk. 

But when it comes to Minho, Chan could describe the feeling in one word— rewarding. No, it’s not because he often plays hard to get. The feeling stems from the fact that when he holds Minho close, he fills and matches well each curve and gap in his body. When he nuzzles his face on Minho’s neck, the younger’s hand will idly make its way to his nape. When he places his hand on top of his waist, Minho will hold it in place while massaging the back of his hand using his thumb. When he intentionally bumps his knees with Minho, the latter will instinctively tangle his legs with him. On top of that, Minho’s touches are snuggly and feather-light— extremely careful but not distant. Warm but not burning (unless Chan feels flustered).

“Why do you give the best hugs?” Chan mumbled, somehow half-asleep. Minho’s eyes fluttered open, confused with the sudden rhetoric question.

“We don’t even hug that often.”

“I know but,” Chan sighed, before distancing himself a bit to look at the younger. “You’re really good at it. The only downside is that it’s _so_ infrequent.”

“Now say that without whining and I’ll think about hugging you more.” Minho laughed at Chan’s pout. If only he wasn’t so lazy to whip out his phone, he would’ve taken a picture already and sent it to the group chat. Speaking of which, they haven’t told the others yet that they won’t be coming home. Minho made a mental note to message Changbin later.

“You…” Chan raised his fist to lightly punch Minho’s arms. “Stop laughing, dear God!”

Knowing Minho, his laughter didn’t cease. Instead, he only made it louder. ‘Are you against my happiness?”

“No, you’re just noisy.” Chan deadpanned, which prompted Minho to exaggerate his laughs the best that he could. But the human ears (case on point: Chan’s) could only take so much. Chan daringly leaned his face closer before pinching the younger’s cheek. “Quiet down! We’re not in the dorm!”

“That genuinely hurt!” Minho whisper-yelled while swatting Chan’s hand away. It was Chan’s turn to chuckle. Minho didn’t move his face away as he tried his best to keep a poker face. “If you don’t stop laughing, I might have to take matters into my own hands.”

“And how are you gonna do tha—”

“Ugh, why do you always challenge me?” Minho stared at Chan’s eyes intently, the air suddenly feeling stuffier than usual. Chan didn’t know how to react. Usually, his eyes would mirror his thoughts and emotions at a given moment. After all, for the longest time already, he described those same eyes as “expressive”. Yet as he tried to scan for any sign of what was bound to happen, he couldn’t detect, let alone decode, anything. 

And so he did what he thought the second best that he could do, examine Minho’s face at this proximity. His gaze travelled down from the other’s feline eyes, framed with long and thin lashes down to his sharp nose situated between his (flustered?) apple cheekbones— except he didn’t stop there. Before he knew it, he was looking directly at the mild cupid’s bow lips, full and with a faint trace of balm. He remembered holding his breath at the sight as he had never been enthralled by such. What he couldn’t remember, though, was when it started getting closer to his own until he wasn’t left with just imagining how it would feel anymore.

Chan was frozen in his position, stunned and rendered immobile. He couldn’t even lift his hands to save his life. He could only bask in its softness and focus on how it feels against his own. Minho was patient, as expected of him, and stayed still. Chan was appreciative of this gesture (since he needed time to process this) until he felt that their lips were finally familiar enough with each other’s company. 

Chan couldn’t thank the couches for being light as he was able to push them away with ease, all while they both sat up with lips still in contact. Chan was mistaken when he thought he’d run out of invisible things to adore about the younger, now held captive both by his hands and tongue. Even though his mind was all over the place, learning that **_he loves the thrill of Minho’s kisses_** kept him sane. The more Minho roamed his fingers on Chan with a foolish smile seen through his half-lidded eyes, the more he understood what it meant to feel fire without matches. It was more than their hot breaths mingling and their lungs burning. Instead, it was more about the fire in his heart that he couldn’t tame anymore, embers burning everywhere.

It was at this moment that Chan realized that as much as there's a lot of visible things to adore about Minho, it's the invisible things that he loves the most about him that lures him closer.

But if not a blizzard nor a storm could put the flames out, a ringing telephone could.

“Damn it.” Chan mused as he stumbled towards his desk to answer the phone call. He gave a quick glance at Minho, who then only shrugged his shoulders.

“Yes… I don’t know?... No… Yes, in the morning. Yeah, good night.” Chan huffed after setting the telephone down. He plopped down on the couch with his legs crossed.

“Who was that?” Minho smoothened his white shirt before making his way towards the office chair. “Why is your face like that?”

“Seung—”

“Oh God, why is Seungmin the bane of my existence.” Minho dragged his palms down his face while sighing exasperatedly. ‘I knew I should’ve messaged Changbin that I won’t be back until later.”

“Well, look at that. Seems like you brought it upon yourself.”

“Maybe if you just listened to me and went home…” Minho trailed off, unsure if he would even want to continue what he was saying.

“Why? Do you still wish I did that?” Chan raised his eyebrow at the younger, who shrunk in his seat. “Your ears couldn’t even lie!”

“Shut up!” Minho whined, his ears turning redder (except Chan wouldn’t see since he already covered them with his hands). “Now let me sleep in peace. You’re such a distraction.”

“Whatever you say.” Chan laughed as he stood up from his seat, reinstalled the “ceiling” of the fort, and fixed the blanket they’d sleep on. “Come here.”

“Just this once…” Minho mumbled as he lied down next to Chan, sleepiness finally catching up to him. “You’re allowed to hug me.”

“Thank you, I guess.” Chan answered sarcastically yet he still took the chance. He pressed his face against the younger’s back, trying his best to keep himself grounded. Chan didn’t get a reaction from Minho. Instead, he was only greeted by soft snores a couple of minutes after.

“I see how it is then.” Chan laughed as he shed his fleece jacket to make it into his temporary pillow. He draped the spare blanket over the younger's torso and wished him good night in the form of placing a kiss on the crown of his head.

  
  


Chan doesn't exactly know what's gonna happen after or where he lies in Minho's life after tonight. Did Minho always have the urge to do that? Was Chan anticipating for it? Will anything change or is it just nothing? Surely in the morning, there's a lot of things they need to talk about, and although Chan himself is confused of his feelings about this whole thing, he still hopes that they pick up where they left off. So many new questions are being asked to be answered yet the best thing to do for now is to get some shuteye.

And so, Chan fell asleep with one thought in mind, a mission he would strive to accomplish each day, be damned if it will cause him trouble— discover more invisible things to love about Lee Minho.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a strong feeling that i will edit this in the near future or when i'm less busy lmao but thank !!! you !!! for reading until the end ^_^ keep safe, everyone!


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